Miles From Where You Are
by welcome to maddieland
Summary: -"I pray that something picks me up..." With two weeks to live, Massie Block calls on Christopher Plovert for help.
1. in my life

Rated T for character death and mildly graphic scenes.

* * *

_**miles from where you are**_

"Christopher Plovert?"

"Yes?"

"This is Kendra Block."

It seems strange enough that Massie's name appeared on caller ID when I picked up my phone not three seconds ago, but even stranger that Massie's mother, Westchester's resident MILF, is the one actually calling me.

"Hi, Mrs. Block," I reply. "What can I do for you?"

There's a pause in which I hear a bit of shuffling and a nervous giggle from Kendra.

"I'm calling on behalf of Massie."

Okay. I wait.

"Christopher, are you…aware of what's going on right now?"

"With Massie?"

"Yes."

Something's wrong with Massie?

"I'm not aware, actually," I confess. My mind can't seem to find the strength to start speculating and jumping to conclusions. It's frozen.

Kendra sighs on the other line. "Christopher, Massie is in the hospital. And she's not leaving anytime soon."

Oh.

_Oh._

"I…"

"Christopher, Massie would like you to come down and visit her as soon as possible. Today, if you can."

"Why?" I blurt. Massie rarely, if ever, speaks to me.

"I don't know. I think she wants to talk to you about something in person."

"Okay."

Another pause.

"Which hospital?" I ask, groping on my desk for my car keys.

"New York Presbyterian."

"I'm on my way."

--

I hate hospitals. I really, really hate them. I hate their smell. I hate the way the nurses look at you when you cross paths. I hate the way other visitors size you up as you both wait, as though they're trying to assess whether or not your situation is worse than theirs.

I hate the needles.

I hate the way sick people look.

And I hate those stupid clowns that walk around trying to cheer everyone up.

But my hatred fades when I walk into room 126 and everything falls into place with a burst of intuition.

This is why Massie and her friends haven't shown up to a soccer game in months.

This is why people have stopped gossiping about her in the halls.

This is why Dylan Marvil walks around with a stony expression on her face.

Because one look at Massie Block, curled up on her stiff hospital bed, and I can tell that she's dying. And even I can't stop it.

--

Her parents leave the room and Massie adjusts her bed so that she's sitting up, facing me as I perch on the end of it.

"I'm upgrading to a suite tomorrow," she tells me, half-heartedly fluffing her deflated pillows. "Mom wants to be able to spend the night here comfortably. And Dad wants to be able to watch the game on a bigger TV. There'll be couches. And space."

"Sounds nice," I mumble.

"It is." She grins at me, and for a moment the bags under her eyes disappear, her hair isn't as dull and limp, and her amber eyes aren't as sad. "It's in a whole different wing of the hospital. Can you imagine? There's even a little tearoom for the guests! I haven't had tea in so long." The smile fades and is replaced by a deep, guttural cough that shakes the whole bed. She sits back for a moment, wheezing, appraising me silently.

"What do you have?" I ask when her panting subsides.

"Stomach cancer," she says like she doesn't even care. "By the time we got to the doctor it didn't look so good."

"Have you tried chemo?" The Massie Block I knew wouldn't be giving in so quickly. The Massie Block I knew didn't go down without a fight.

"It'd be kind of pointless," she says as she pulls at a loose thread on her blanket.

"Radiation?"

"Some." She shrugs her thin shoulders. I can see the bones sticking out.

"How much longer do you have?"

"Please don't be mad at me." Her tone is almost begging. I look up at her in surprise.

"I couldn't be mad at you."

"Two weeks."

A long silence.

"What?"

"I said I have two weeks to live."

"You can't die, you're sixteen," I say rather stupidly, even though I already know that it's inevitable.

"God has a reason for everything," she sighs. I shrug, not quite knowing what to say. Maybe I had never really known Massie Block at all.

"How long have you been out of school?"

"I went back for September…but then things started getting bad." She frowned and scratched at her hairline.

"Does everyone know?"

"Nope. Well, Alicia and Kristen and Dylan know. So does my family. But everyone else, no. If anyone asks, my mother—or the girls—usually tell people I transferred schools."

"Why?" I can't mask my horror.

"Because it sounds a hell of a lot better than saying 'my daughter is dying,'" she snaps, breaking composure for the first time.

"Then why are you telling me?"

"Because I need you to do something for me."

A favour I couldn't refuse.

"Chris, you write." It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

"You see things."

"I suppose."

"I have stories, Chris," she whispers, her voice getting urgent. She leans toward me. "Stories that just sit in my head all day. Stories about boys. Stories about me. I want to write them all down so I can show my mother and father that they weren't the only ones who loved me."

"Everyone loves you, Massie," I cry.

"No," she murmurs. "Less than ten people loved me enough to show it back. And I'm going to tell you about them. All about them. Every detail. Every story. And I need you to write it down."

A favour I really couldn't refuse.

"Okay." All the breath goes out of her in a triumphant sigh. "I'll write for you."

"Thank you," she whispers. I've never seen her so happy. "We start tomorrow. When I move into my suite."

"Okay." I feel like this is my cue to leave.

"Okay," she says back.

I don't want to leave. Her body is too thin, her skin too pale, her fingers too shaky.

I say goodbye to Massie Block. I didn't want to think about when I'd have to say it for good.


	2. no one compares with you

Thanks to touchofsunshine, Dani, Sophie, WakeMeUpWhenItsYesterday, FishFace4Life, omgitskristen, gallaghergrl, and Torqueo Animadverto for all reviewing! I promise to be consistent with updates on this one because unlike Young Westchester, I have the ending for this written out.

* * *

I arrive at the hospital at 10 AM. Like Massie said, she's in a suite now. It has green carpeting and mahogany wood paneling. There are several windows and a little sitting area in her room, as well as a nicely sized TV. A bathroom's next to her considerably softer bed. She seems happier. I walk into her room, her parents greet me and then leave.

"They understand that I want privacy while you're here," she says.

"Do they know what we're talking about?" I ask.

"No."

"Okay."

"My laptop's by the window, could you get it? You'll be typing my stories on it." She points to a colourful laptop case by the window near the couches. I pick it up and bring it to her bed, settling down next to her. We both watch it hum to life.

"The same time I got sick, it got sick," she says, patting the keyboard of her purple Dell. "My dad said he wished we could send me into the shop to get fixed, too." I laugh, and she coughs. Hard.

"Well?" My fingers are poised, waiting to put words on a blank Word document.

"I don't know," she admits. "Should I start with the first boy? Or with the one who made me the happiest? I don't know if going chronologically will make it easier to understand."

"Go with the one who comes to mind first."

She pauses for only a moment. "Okay, today we're talking about Todd Lyons."

Todd Lyons. I knew that kid. He was a sophomore now…he was a little off.

"The first time I saw Todd was in my theatre class when he was a freshie and I was a sophomore. He was adorable. _Adorable_."

I let my fingers flow over the keys. I let her talk.

"I was captivated by him. I couldn't stop my eyes from wandering over to him. I couldn't gather the guts to talk to him, although I always went with Layne—she was in my class too—whenever she walked over to go talk to him. I actually kind of hated him for awhile because he didn't really acknowledge me and I wanted him to acknowledge me so bad.

"And then one day he talked to me. We were all sitting around, waiting for our teacher to start the class and he turned around, looked straight at me, and said, 'What's my next class?' I froze, because he was actually talking to me. I didn't know what his next class, so I just kind of stared at him, and he was like, 'Oh, sorry! I was just staring off into space.' I said something really stupid like, 'I don't know what your next class is,' but then he said 'Oh! It's Geometry! Thanks for your help.' Then he winked at me and turned around. And I just kept sitting there, because this boy I had been secretly madly in love with for a week had just talked to me.

"Things kept getting better. Maybe a week or so after that, we were playing some kind of game and we all had to link arms and Todd was standing right next to me so I had to link arms with him. And he was all like, 'Yeah, hot stuff, you have to touch me.' It made my day.

"A couple of classes later we were all in one of those rooms in the back of the fine arts hall and I was sitting in one corner of the room and he, Layne, and a couple of other kids were in another corner. They were messing around and I was just watching them and all of the sudden Todd sat down on Layne's lap, clenched his butt cheeks, and starting jumping up and down on her lap. She shrieked and pushed him off and looked up and saw me laughing at her. She waved me over and had Todd do the same thing to me. I shrieked and pushed him off, just like she did. Then he just sat down and rested his legs on me. One of the other kids in the corner was like, 'Are you going to be one of those people who's a parent by age 18?' and Todd said, 'Only with her,' meaning me, and it more than just made my day. It made my week. So I just blurted out, kind of jokingly, 'I love you Todd Lyons.' Luckily, I don't think he took it too seriously.

"But he wasn't totally in my life now, not the way I wanted him to be. I mean, he still talked to me, and one time he picked me up and carried me around the theatre classroom for some reason, but we weren't friends.

"And then…Dumbledore's Army happened."

Dumbledore's Army. I remembered that. Massie Block had an amazing drive.

"Dylan and I were reading My Life is Average one day and there was one about a kid who put up sign-up sheets for Dumbledore's Army. Dylan dared me to do it. And I did—well, we did, really. We posted them all over OCD. And then Dylan had the most ingenious idea ever. We would get Todd to help us put DA sign-up sheets around the school. He agreed. He stopped being that boy I had a crush on and became my—and Dylan's—friend. It was like, mission accomplished, you know? And after he helped us put up all those signs, I gave him a hug. I just did it. I needed one.

"I looked around for more opportunities to hug Todd, but then I remembered how much I hated touchy-feely guys, so I tried not to throw myself all over him. I dunno, though. One time in theatre I was sitting down, talking to Layne and he came over and hugged my head to his waist and told Layne how much he loved me and started rubbing my face. Normally that would freak me out, right? But I liked him too much to push him off of me. I didn't want to push him off of me. I could have stayed that way forever.

"He was just so intuitive, too. Like I got my hair cut for the first time in a while and I came to school but nobody noticed—except for Todd. I went down with Layne to the fine arts wing during lunch for some reason and he was there and he saw my hair and he was like, 'Massie Block, did you get a haircut? It's pretty! Almost as pretty as me.' I was so happy for the rest of the day, just because of one thing he said.

"I love that boy. _Love_ him. Even though everyone else in my theatre class kind of hates him because he got kind of full of himself after awhile, I'll always love Todd Lyons."

She pauses, and turns to look at me. "I think that's it."

"Really?" Todd Lyons only takes up a page and a half. She looks at it and frowns.

"I remember the last time I saw him."

I start typing again.

"It was my last day of school. I was looking visibly sick and my parents were going to pull me out and get me a tutor until I was well enough to go back—or at least that's what they said. They knew I wouldn't be getting better. But anyway, Inez, our housekeeper, had baked a batch of cupcakes for me to bring for my homeroom and I was walking to science, banging the cupcake pan on my knee—bad idea, I ended up bruising later—and I heard Todd say my name. I turned around and smiled at him and he asked me if I had eaten all those cupcakes in the tray by myself. I laughed and he waved goodbye and kept on walking."

"You should tell him," I say. "About—about what's going on. He'd want to see you."

"You're going to be saying that about all of these boys."

"It's true."

"They'll see me when I want them to see me," she snaps.

I exit out of Microsoft Word. "I think we're done for the day."

"No, we're not," she insists, reaching over me to pull Word back up. "I still want to talk."

"About what?"

"Death."

"No."

"Yes. I sit here in this goddamn bed all day and the only people I talk to are Dr. Hope and my parents, and if you even imply the d-word near my mother she'll burst into tears and lock herself in the bathroom. So you'll sit here and listen to me talk about death if I want you to."

Options run through my head. I could tell Massie to screw herself and walk out of the room—for good. I could call the nurse and ask for more painkillers. Or I could sit here like she wants me to and listen to her talk.

But you don't tell dying people to screw themselves, and I know she's kind of doped up already, so I sit and listen.

"I told my dad—because my mom won't listen—that I want to be cremated and fed to the whales in Hawaii," she says. I don't type this. "I don't think they'll do it, though, just because they want some tangible form of me left. Which is stupid. I'm not going to rise out of the grave, am I? When I'm gone, I'm gone."

Massie says this without regret or sadness. I blink at her.

"They're emptying out my entire trust fund, too. They're donating most of it to charities—I got to pick which ones I wanted to donate to, which was cool. The rest of it gets donated to OCD—like, the Massie Block Fashion Design Wing or something like that has already been commissioned."

"How are you so okay with this?"

She's quiet for a long time.

"I've had a long time to accept this," she says. "You're just getting started."


	3. some have changed forever not for better

Happy birthday to me, I'm one hundred and three...;)

Thanks again y'all for all the reviews!

* * *

"Let's tell a happy story again," she says.

I'm in the exact same place as I was yesterday—sitting next to her on the bed, her computer on my lap. Our elbows barely skim each other.

"Okay," I say. Her concentration on the happy stories made me wonder what the unhappy ones were like. But her mouth barely even forms the words of the next boy's name when a nurse comes in.

"Massie," the nurse sings.

"Oh," Massie says. The nurse takes her arm and starts wiping it down.

"Don't look," Massie murmurs. I look anyway. Massie stares straight ahead. The nurse messes around for a little longer, checking the monitors around her bed, then leaves.

"I used to not like needles," she says. "Now, they're not so bad."

I don't answer.

"Dune Baxter."

I start typing.

"Dune Baxter can do anything. He can sing, act, play several different musical instruments, get straight-A's, charm the ladies…"

I laugh, and she does too.

"He charmed me. He was in two of my classes freshman year—Biology and English. He could make the whole class laugh. Once, my bio teacher, Mrs. Stone was talking about a slideshow she had of various diseases, and she was like, 'I know this is gross, but I had one picture of worms coming out of a boy's anus.' Dune was like, 'Did I hear you right?' and she was like, 'Yeah, I said anus.' And he was like, 'No, the coming-out-of part.' And she was like, 'Yeah, it looked like spaghetti.' That struck me as so, so funny. Everything he did was funny.

"Another time we were in English and the guidance counselor was talking to us about the school dress code policy and I guess she was talking about how she wasn't very attentive, because she was like, 'You could probably walk by my office in your underwear and I wouldn't notice.' So Dune starts tugging at his shirt like he's going to take it off and our English teacher notices him and yells, 'That is not an excuse to take your clothes off!'

"The theatrical part of him made him kind of a drama king. Like one time, he was all, 'Does anyone have a piece of paper?' and I gave him one and he was like, 'Thank you so much! You're my new best friend! Thanks so much for the paper!' and he wouldn't shut up about it for like ten minutes and I was blushing so, so hard. Another time I had to give him a pencil and he was like, 'I owe you my life now. I'll do anything you want me to do.' And I laughed and was just like, 'Um, you can just use the pencil for now.' But later that same day we had to go into the computer lab and none of the computers worked except for the one right next to him so I just sat by him. But it turned out that computer didn't work either so he spent the rest of the period trying to get it to work for me. When it still wouldn't run, I was just like, 'Oh well, thanks anyway for your help.' And he was like, 'Well, you own my life, so…'

"He was just so _nice_. Like one time we were grading open-ended responses in English and he was grading mine and he asked me what's the highest he could give, and I told him the highest was a three, and he was like, 'Well, you get a ten.'

"And then there were just random one-liners he'd say that would just make my day. Like, we had to memorize roots words for biology and one day Dune was walking around saying 'Jim no got no clothes on.' And Mrs. Stone was like, 'What?' and he was like, 'That's how I remember that gymno means naked.' Oh, and another time in bio we were talking about sex and he was like, 'Life rhymes with wife…don't make new life until you have a wife!'

"I think the two best Dune Baxter moments for me were when he hugged me for the first time and when we read _Romeo and Juliet_ together.

"The first time he hugged me was at that stupid Sadie Hawkins dance we had freshman year. Kristen and I were dancing and Kristen knew Dune pretty well from soccer stuff, so he came over to say hi and gave her a big hug. He saw me just kind of awkwardly standing there so he reached over and hugged me too. It was just like, mission accomplished, you know?

"But _Romeo and Juliet_…that was the best. When we read it in class, our teacher had us read different parts out loud. So when we were about to read the balcony scene, our teacher picked me to read for Juliet and him to read for Romeo. I was so nervous that I'd accidentally burp during the scene or something since I had English right after lunch, but we were both flawless. It was perfect.

"Then summer came."

"I thought you said this was a happy one?" I ask.

"It gets sad at the end."

"Oh."

"Anyway. Summer came. I was on Facebook and I saw that he was in a relationship with another girl. Olivia Ryan. I almost cried. It wasn't like I'd wanted us to go out or anything, but I liked having someone to kind of…fangirl. To crush on. Admire from afar and all that. But anyway, he was taken now.

"And then Kristen and I were at his house for some end-of-summer party thing. Kristen tutored Dune's little sister, Ripple, and I guess she'd mentioned in passing that I had a bit of a crush on her brother. But Kristen never explained to Ripple that it was just a mini-crush. Ripple thought I really loved him.

"Kristen and I were messing around in the kitchen. Ripple tried to get us to come into the living room—he was practically standing in the doorway. I shook my head. She was like, 'Why? I thought you loved him.'

"Who knows if he actually heard her or not. But I couldn't take it. I left his house. Kristen was so mad at me, but I couldn't explain it to her. I just couldn't take that kind of embarrassment.

"So I never talked to him again. I never saw him. I never had any more classes with him. I even hid him from my news feed on Facebook so I wouldn't have to see him if I couldn't help it. And I just…moved on."

Dune Baxter takes up almost two pages. Massie laughs.

"I think…I think that means he's more significant than Todd Lyons. But only by a bit."

"I think so, too."

--

I'm about to leave; I'm shutting down her computer, I'm smoothing back her covers, I'm fixing to let her parents back into the room.

"Which stories do you like the most?" I ask. "The happy ones or the sad ones?"

She stares at me thoughtfully.

"The sad ones," she finally says. "Because if I didn't have those, I couldn't appreciate the happy ones."


	4. some have gone

Thanks again for all the reviews and birthday wishes! The weak-stomached, take heed in the beginning.

* * *

I arrive at the door.

Her mother tells me to leave. Massie's sleeping.

Kendra doesn't look me in the eye when she says this.

I think we're all desperate for more time.

--

I arrive at the door. I knock. A panicked voice invites me in.

"Oh," Kendra says. "I thought you were the nurse."

Massie's vomiting into a Styrofoam cup. My stomach tells me to leave. My instincts tell me to help.

"I've got to get a bucket," Kendra cries. "Just stay with her for a minute." She tosses the cup into the toilet and runs out.

Massie dry heaves and shoots me a guilty look. I stick my hands out. She throws up into them.

No one can say I don't love Massie Block.

--

She's clean now, quietly sipping water.

"I have a somewhat sad story today," she rasps. "It's short."

Kendra and William are still in the room today, worried about their daughter. But they sit at the far end of the suite, on the couches, numbly watching TV.

"When I was thirteen, we went to the Cayman Islands instead of the Bahamas for winter break. There were five other kids about my age staying in the same hotel. We formed a loose kind of clique that winter. We were definitely the cool kids on the block."

She closes her eyes.

"You close your eyes too."

I obey.

"The waters are blue. Bluer than the sky. Bluer than your eyes. The water runs a little green in some spots. When you get into the waves, you can see straight down to the bottom. The ocean there is so blue but it's also so clear.

"The sand is really nice and powdery down there. It's not mucky or muddy but fine and soft. Perfect for tanning on. Rows and rows of white lawn chairs are on the beach. I'm lying on one of them in my Betsey Johnson bikini and my Oliver Peoples sunglasses.

"The air smells like sunshine and hotels and flowers. I don't know what kind of flowers, but it smells nice. It smells like summer. Summer in the middle of winter. Can you imagine?

"Can you see it?"

"Yeah, I can see it." I can see it so well I can almost touch it. Massie's healthy. Her skin is a deep, caramel brown. She's laughing, and it doesn't look like it hurts her to laugh.

"Well, that's where I met him."

A dark angel swoops in and ruins the picture. I open my eyes and begin to type.

"His name was Dempsey. I never knew his last name. He was the most ripped 14-year-old I've ever seen and was so, so tan. He had this flippy caramel blonde hair and really piercing green eyes. He was for sure the hottest guy on the island. And he had his pick of four girls, including me.

"The eldest's name was Skye. She thought she was hot stuff, and she kind of was. She strutted around the island with a trail of boys drooling after her. Then there was Jacqueline. She was definitely the nicest and had a thing for the other boy in our hotel, Mark. Whitney was the one closest in age to me and the only one who wasn't obviously interested in Dempsey.

"Dempsey was interested in me on principle, before Skye arrived at the hotel. The first night there I went down to the hotel lobby and he, Mark, and Jacqueline were all down there about to play some sort of scavenger hunt game but they needed one more person. There was some like, 11-year-old girl skulking around them, hoping to be picked to be on Dempsey's team but as soon as I walked into the room, he zeroed in on me.

"We had a few things in common. We liked some of the same books and some of the same music. But I was way more interested in his looks than his personality, as bad as that sounds.

"That night was one of the funnest I'd had in a while. We won the hunt and celebrated by stealing a bunch of balloons from the special events closet, blowing them up, and starting an all-out balloon war between me, him, Jacqueline, and Mark.

"But the next day, Skye arrived at the hotel.

"She was fifteen, blond-haired, blue-eyed, and reeked of experience. She'd already been out on the town that day and made friends with a few boys from some nearby hotels and, according to what she told us, had made out with the busboy at the restaurant across the street. Dempsey was all over her like sprinkles on a cupcake.

"It was awful. I watched him run after her like a lovesick puppy and watched her lead him on and on and then ditch him for her latest catch of the day. He was so desperate to hook up with her. Once we were playing truth or dare and she was dared to kiss him on the cheek. He only heard the 'kiss' part, not the 'cheek' part, so he faced her and literally puckered up his lips. She turned his head to the side and kissed him on the cheek like she was dared to. It was hilarious…kind of.

"I was sort of hoping that _I'd_ be dared to kiss him. But at the same time, I was terrified…first kisses are scary, you know? But I never was. I mean, I was dared to lick his cheek once but I wasn't about to do that.

"The only thing that tipped me off to the fact that he still might like me was we were at lunch one day and he was whispering with Mark. And then all of the sudden Mark goes, 'Massie, you liiiike Dempsey, don't you?' I was horrified—I hadn't been blatantly obvious about my crush but I had still kind of hinted to Whitney and Jacqueline about it. I immediately insisted that I didn't but he still kept bugging me, trying to get me to admit it. The whole time Dempsey stared straight ahead, acting oblivious to the whole thing.

"I picked apart this scene later that night in bed. What had Dempsey and Mark been whispering about? Why had Dempsey not looked at me at lunch that day? My head jumped around to the conclusion I wanted—that he was trying to find out whether or not I liked him. And it seemed plausible enough to me.

"So the week went on. We continued to play silly games like Truth or Dare. Mark was dared to do the worm in a puddle. I was dared to steal some decorations from the formal dining room in the hotel. And Dempsey, he was dared to propose to me. I acted disgusted with him but I secretly loved it.

"The second-to-last day I was walking down to go eat breakfast and I overheard Mark and Dempsey talking in one of the booths in the hotel's café. I hid behind their booth and listened. They were talking about all the girls at the hotel and who'd they choose, in order, to hook up with.

"I was Dempsey's second choice. Skye was his first. I'm no second-rate whore. I swore off of Dempsey that day. It wasn't worth it.

"The last day we were there he and Skye made out in the custodian's closet. Whitney and Jacqueline and Mark and I ran around like crazy that night and had so, so much fun, but I was still hurting inside after the night was done.

"The best way to get over somebody is to push all traces of them out of your life. Leaving the Cayman Islands was the best thing I could have done to get over Dempsey. But even still, it was the best vacation I ever took. I missed being there like crazy for months afterward."

"Did you ever think about going back?" I ask.

She smiles a sad little smile.

"My parents let me pick one place to return to after my diagnosis. By the time we were ready to go, I wasn't in traveling condition."


	5. your soft skin is weeping

I knock on the door and am greeted by a cranky, stressed Kendra.

"She's asleep," she says for the second time.

"Let him in," a croaky voice sounds.

"But—"

"Please. Let him in."

Massie is draped across the pillows, her breathing shallow, her eyelids fluttering. She feebly pats the bed. I crawl into it, much to Kendra's disapproval.

"Mom?"

"Fine," Kendra snaps. She leaves.

My arm brushes against Massie's—she's freezing. I wrap my arm around her. She immediately snuggles into it, her head resting on my collarbone.

"You're warmer than my Snuggie," she mutters. I laugh.

"Are we telling stories today?" I ask.

"Yeah," she breathes. "It's right there. On the floor."

I stretch for her laptop as gently as possible, trying not to jostle her.

"Okay. Shoot."

"Once, Dylan and I were at Panera Bread, discussing all the boys we've liked in past years. I asked her if she could pick any boy she'd ever liked to be with her for the rest of her life, who would she pick? I forget her choice, but I remember mine: Derrick Harrington.

"I would have never met him if it weren't for Kristen. Since both the boys' and the girls' soccer teams practiced at the same time in adjoining fields, she knew all of the soccer boys pretty well. He was captain of boys' soccer team, star goalie, and he was coming to the movies to see _Hancock_ with us.

"When we got to the theatre, it somehow ended up that I got the end seat and he was sitting next to me. He didn't waste any time trying to break the ice—he immediately stuck his face in mine and was like, 'Hey, May-see.' I was like, 'Derrick, that's not my name. It's pronounced Mah-see.' But the fact that he messed up my name didn't bother him at all. He proceeded to fake-yawn and wrap his arm around my shoulders. I pushed him off of me.

"Normally the fact that he was a bit of an arrogant bastard would have annoyed me. But I couldn't help myself. Derrick was the first boy who seemed to like me first—I didn't have to work to get his attention. So I went after him. Within a week, he had asked for my number. Within two weeks, we were texting nonstop every night.

"I'd pull all sorts of stunts to go see him. He had lunch the same time I had math, so I'd pretend I had to go to the bathroom or that I left something in my previous class so that I could go drop by the refectory to go see him.

"It seemed like he genuinely cared about me, too. Once, my mom gave me a mental health day and took me to go get a facial and he called me as soon as school let out, wondering where I'd been that day and whether or not I was okay. Was I sick? Could he go get anything for me? I was tempted to make him run to Panera for a scone and some hot chocolate, but I told him the real reason I'd been out that day.

"My favourite moments were in the early morning, when I'd be talking to my friends and he'd come over and wrap his arms around my waist and set his chin on my shoulder. I'd laugh and wiggle out of his grip—I didn't want to seem too obvious about my crush—but I, of course, secretly loved it.

"Oh, and ever since we saw _Hancock_, we were movie buddies. We saw _Prom Night_ together, and _Iron Man_, and that God-awful football movie, _Leatherheads._ We always went in a group and if someone else sat next to me, he'd make them move so that _he_ could sit by me. You know, because we were movie buddies.

"But all that texting and flirting and nothing ever came of it. I would think he'd be about to ask me out, but then he'd change the subject or comment on how cute some other girl's butt was.

"Then summer came. We texted on and off, but we never hung out, not like before. And he texted me, so excited, telling me he was now dating Nikki Dalton, a girl I'd been friends with in elementary school. She was his first real girlfriend. His first kiss. And I was the girl he'd liked once who still liked him.

"High school came—"

"This all took place in middle school?"

"Yeah. Eighth grade."

"Oh. Okay. Continue."

"As I was saying, high school came and he went to Westchester Christian and I went to Octavian County. He'd stopped dating Nikki, and I'd moved on…a little bit. I still jumped at any chance to see him, but those opportunities were few and far between. We drifted apart.

"I saw Derrick one last time at Kristen's sixteenth birthday party. She had a big dinner party at this nice little Latin restaurant. And once again, it somehow ended up that we were seated next to each other at the end of the table—well, we were actually across from each other. It didn't matter. We still had a blast. We got these mini marshmallow roasting pits and we threw every flammable thing we could find in ours. The fire shot up and he put it out with my lemonade…and then someone said something funny just as he was taking a drink of his lemonade and he did a spit-take all over my new Alice + Olivia sweater.

"He'd changed, you know? I was listening to him talk about times he'd gotten drunk and done stupid things, and he kind of made it seem like he smoked now…what had happened to the fourteen-year-old I'd had a massive crush on?

"And then at my sixteenth birthday party, Kristen and I started talking and Derrick got brought up and…and…Chris, he ran away from home. Because he drank and smoked he constantly got in trouble with his parents so they kept grounding him, and he got so fed up with them he ran away from home. He slept behind the old Target near Westchester Christian. His mother was desperate to find him and had called Kristen, hoping she knew where he was…

"He used to be the brightest part of my day, and now…and now…"

She bursts into tears. She sobs into my neck, clutching my shirt and staining it with tears. She cries until I know she's no longer crying about just Derrick anymore. She cries until there are no tears left. She cries until her racking sobs subside into little whimpers. She cries until finally, finally falls asleep, her breaths still light and shuddery, her eyelids fluttering. And I hold her the entire time, because it's the only thing I can do.


	6. i know i'll never lose affection

I get to the hospital and Massie is looking numb. Like she's been told she's going to die for the very first time. She doesn't even glance at me when I come in.

I gingerly sit next to her. She stiffens, and then sighs and melts into my body, resting her head on my shoulder and setting her hand on my knee. As soon as I pull up Microsoft Word, she launches into her usual monologue.

"Josh Hotz was the boy who was the hardest to deal with. Theoretically he was everything you could have asked for in a guy, but I didn't know what to do with him.

"He's Alicia's cousin and he lived here until the beginning of seventh grade, when his dad went to go work for some oil company down in Texas. And then his dad bought stock in some little fro-yo place called Berripop and Berripop popped up all over the country so the next thing you know the Hotzes have their own private jet and are making it rain with all their cash.

"So every once in a while Josh would fly back up here and spend the weekend with Alicia and she would be obligated to drag him along to all of our outings and most of the time I ignored him because, you know, Kristen would bring Derrick or something but one weekend during freshman year, Josh was here and it just hit me—I was really kind of interested in this kid.

"It was the weekend of Underclassmen Formal when I really _saw_ Josh for the first time. Josh had come in to be Krista Basset's date because she couldn't find one in Westchester. But the night before, Alicia decided that we were all going to go see _The Haunting in Connecticut_ with Josh. So she had her driver pick Dylan and I up—Kristen was getting a ride from Kemp Hurley—and we were all giggly because we were about to get into the car with a _boy_ and we hadn't really hung out or liked any boys for a really long time. So we were all sitting really awkwardly in Alicia's limo when Josh all of the sudden blurts out, 'Hey, wanna do the robot?' It was just so awkwardly hilarious that we couldn't help but laugh and do the robot with him while Alicia just rolled her eyes at us.

"At the theatre it ended up that Josh was sitting right between Dylan and I. And any time there was a scary part, we'd both reach and grab Josh's hand. And pretty soon Kemp starting reaching over to grab our hands, and then Kristen starting reaching over Kemp to grab our hands, and Alicia just goes, 'Guys! Stop having a hand orgy and watch the movie!' Naturally we thought that was the most hilarious thing ever and so the hand orgy was born.

"Then there was the dance itself. I'd gone with Cam Fisher as my date, but of course as soon as we got there he ran after some blonde chick in our grade so I was left alone…but not really, because Josh was there. He made sure I was okay that night. I'd be standing alone, drinking water because I'd danced too hard and he'd come up and talk to me and ask me where Cam was and just random stuff about life. And towards the end of the night, he asked me to dance.

"You know that feeling where you look at someone and you just _know_? Know that you like them and that you want to hang out with them and be with them?"

Of course I knew that feeling.

"Well, that's how I felt when I really saw Josh that night. Even though we were doing to robot instead of grinding like everyone else at the dance, I trusted him more than I trusted anyone else in that room. And when he left for Texas again in the morning, I felt like crying. Because I'd finally found somebody to like again and he was gone, a thousand miles away.

"He was in my thoughts constantly. He was there when I rode, when I took Bean for walks, when there were awkward pauses during the lunchtime conversation, when I talked to Danny Robbins—more on him later. I constantly bugged Alicia about when he was coming into town next, but if she ever suspected me having feelings for her cousin, she never showed it.

"But life goes on, you know? Summer happens, and suddenly you're about to start your sophomore year of high school and you've kind of forgotten about the boy you did the robot with at a dance in the spring of freshman year. I'd moved on, because now there was Todd Lyons, among other people, and Josh just stopped being in my thoughts as often. He came into town a couple of times, and I was still excited to see him, but it wasn't like before when I had butterflies in my stomach whenever I thought about him.

"Spring came and it was time for the Underclassmen Formal again. I was basically down to two date options: Derrick Harrington or Josh. I picked Josh, just because I didn't need Derrick getting wasted on me.

"If you go by the basic definition of the word, he was the perfect date. The corsage he got me was beautiful. He was attentive—almost overly so. When my feet hurt from dancing too hard, he rubbed them. When I wanted to sit down for just a moment, he sat patiently with me. And when we talked, it felt like we had so much in common—we both thought the fifth _Harry Potter_ movie was stupid, and we both loved _The Golden Compass_, and we had even both read _Twilight_…

"But he followed me everywhere that night like a lost puppy. There were other people I wanted to dance with that night, and I'm sure I could have explained to him that I needed to see Todd to make my night complete, but instead I just told him that I had to go to the bathroom and escaped. And he wanted to go off alone together, and I just wanted to enjoy the party…

"And at the after-party at Dylan's, he said he had a present for me. It was a book—I can't remember the name of it, but I can remember what he wrote on the inside cover perfectly: 'Dear Massie, I really want to thank you for inviting me and while this may not be the most impressive or romantic gift, I think you will be able to appreciate it. So sit back with a cup of tea and enjoy. Sincerely, Josh.'

"I sat on Dylan's bed and read that and felt like crying, crying so hard. He'd gotten me a book, because I'd mentioned in passing the last time I saw him that I loved to read, and he knew that I'd appreciate it. He was showing signs of liking me when I'd moved on.

"He came again over the summer for Alicia's birthday, which is only a couple of weeks after mine. I sat there at the table staring at the cake I wasn't hungry enough to eat, because I'd stopped wanting to eat at that point, and he comes up and places a purple bag on the table. Josh had gotten me a birthday present. Nobody had told Josh that it had been my birthday two weeks ago. Nobody told him to get me a present. He just got one because he wanted to. It was bubble bath, and on the container it said 'Looking Good for Jesus' on it. I thought it was hilarious, and I loved it, but…why? Why was he doing this?

"I hated myself for not liking him back when he was being so nice and attentive and showing all these obvious signs of liking me. I thought I was being selfish. All I wanted was a boyfriend and now that I finally had somebody interested in me, I was all upset because it wasn't the right someone. Josh Hotz was not Todd Lyons. Josh Hotz wasn't Derrick Harrington. Josh Hotz didn't look like the boy in my head, the boy who has flippy blonde hair and blue eyes and wants to skip the awkward dating crap and go straight to being married. No, Josh was the boy right in front of me who had brown hair and brown eyes and cared about me a lot, but I couldn't find it in my heart to care about him back.

"I got home that night and I just felt so lost. Who could I tell about my situation? I hadn't shared the note with anyone, or told anyone about the birthday gift. I felt like I was drowning and drowning and then…then I threw up."

"What?"

"That night when I got home from Alicia's party I threw up blood and the next day we went to the doctor and it was all downhill from there."

"Oh. Oh, Massie."

We sit in silence.

"What'd you end up doing about him?"

"While we were waiting for my tests to come back, I realized that Josh lived in Texas and I didn't have to like him back if I didn't want to because he was so far away. I could just write him a really nice thank-you note and try to forget the whole situation."

"Did it work?"

"I haven't seen him since."

"Do you miss him?"

"Kind of. Not like I used to."

"Do you miss any of them?"

She doesn't answer.


	7. come back to me

My apologies that I haven't updated in so long. School has gotten the better of me. But updates will be more steady now.

* * *

Three days in a row I come. Three days in a row I'm turned away. I hear Massie moan in pain on the other side of the door.

I try to live normally. I really do. But I see things now.

I see Todd Lyons strutting down the hall, hamming it up for his various groupies.

I see Dune Baxter running to class with notes flying out of his messenger bag.

I see Alicia Rivera talking on the phone after school: "I don't know, Josh, I haven't talked to Massie in a _really_ long time."

I see Dylan Marvil rushing past me, her green eyes bloodshot and her cheeks streaky.

I see them all.

They're stuck in my head.

They're stuck in my life.

I can't go back now.

We're running out of time. Her stories turn into vignettes.

"I've been trying to marry Kemp Hurley since the day I was born," she wheezes. "He's my mother's friend's son. We used to live in the same neighborhood. We used to carpool to the same preschool. Everything my family did, his family did. When I got Bean, my pug, he got Porky, his Boston terrier. When we built a guesthouse, they built a guesthouse. When I threw a pool party for my 6th birthday, _he_ threw a pool party for his 6th birthday. I would always try to drop hints about when, how, and where he should propose to me. He never caught on. And then five years flew by and all of the sudden the 7-year-old I'd been in love with was a really ripped 14-year-old with a very deep voice and a very cute girlfriend."

The nurse comes in. More medication is distributed. She's asleep within minutes, and I'm told to come back tomorrow.

"The Danny Robbins situation was awful. _Awful._ He sat behind me in World History and we flirted a lot and Olivia Ryan told me that he liked me. I was excited but also a little panicky, because Danny wasn't the good-guy type. He'd had some _experience_ in middle school and I was worried that he would expect the same from me. Except I wasn't mentally prepared to give, like, oral or anything, you know? So I asked my friends what they thought and they told me to stay the hell away from him. But he was the first boy in a really long time to actually like me back, so I ignored them and went after him anyway.

"I asked Olivia if Danny would expect me to, er, pleasure him and she assured me that he didn't. But she straight-up lied—the crude jokes he'd make when texting me and the fact that whenever he held my hand he'd lead it to his crotch tipped me off. However, Olivia pushed us into a relationship anyway and it was too much for the both of us so he called it off. But even after that, I _still_ liked him and felt sick to my stomach every time he so much as looked at another girl."

A nurse comes in.

"Visiting hours are over, young man."

I leave again.

"Cam Fisher is a fucking asshole. I became friends with him in the eighth grade and I've kind of regretted it ever since.

"We had an okay relationship during eighth grade. When we weren't making inside jokes, he'd bully me into gossiping about my friends and then he'd use what I said to blackmail me into spilling even more secrets. But that was nothing compared to how he treated me in ninth grade.

"It all started when rumours started going around that he liked Kristen. All of the sudden he asked me out and because I'd liked him on an off for the past year, I said yes. The first few days we were in our honeymoon phase—and then he started ignoring me. He wouldn't text me or call me or respond to my IMs. Too worn out to keep going on, I told him it was over. But you know what he told everyone else? That _he_ ended it, not me.

"And then the various forms of mental abuse started. I'd hear from Alicia that Cam said he hated me, and I would confront Cam and he'd say he never said such a thing. Then I'd hear from Layne that Cam called me a whore, and I would confront him and he would deny it. He would be almost friendly when we were alone, but when we were in public he would ignore me, call me names, and tell me to shut up whenever I tried to contribute to the conversation. As far as I knew, our relationship would be like this for the rest of high school.

"But when sophomore year came around, Cam found a new target. It was like I had passed his own personal form of initiation. He'd laugh at my jokes and give me rides and would even pay for my meals whenever we went to Sonic or Subway…but I saw the way he treated Kori Gedman, his new target. I recognized her helpless expression, her desperate comebacks, her attempt to enter whatever conversation he was having…I should have told her it'd be over by the end of sophomore year. Instead, I just watched.

"I'm a horrible person."

"No, you're not. You're an average person who has been scewed over a couple of times."

She laughs, really laughs. But she grips her chest the whole time like it hurts.

Kendra enters with her iPhone in hand. William, who has been watching football at the far end of the room the whole time, looks up.

"The funeral home is on the phone," Kendra murmurs.

"Tell them to call back later," William grunts.

"We've put this off for a while now, William," Kendra pleads. "We need to take care of this."

"Our daughter is still alive. We don't need to take care of anything that has to do with…with them."

"William, the doctor said—"

"I don't give a damn what the doctor said."

"Go," Massie urges. "I'll tell you a real story tomorrow."

I fling open the door and close it quietly behind me. A passing nurse gives me an odd stare as I lean against the door.

"I refuse to plan my own child's funeral, Kendra!" William roars. "A child is supposed to outlive their parents, not the other way around!"

"William, please, please—"

"Stop it!" I hear Massie shriek. "Both of you please, stop i—"

Her voice breaks off into a choking cough, then she retches.

"Damn it, William, you made her throw up."

"_I _made her throw up?"

I slowly walk away from Massie's suite, mulling over her words.

She'll tell me a real story tomorrow.

I have to believe her.


	8. i'd do anything

Her amber eyes are bloodshot, like she hasn't slept all night. Her skin is sallow, her hospital gown roomier than ever before. I suddenly got why she didn't want any of her friends to know she was sick: she didn't want them to see her this way. Only I got to see her, and I couldn't tell if that was a burden or a privilege.

"Today's is about Nathan," she says, her head resting on my shoulder. We're surprisingly comfortable with each other now. I can feel the exhaustion radiating from her whole body.

"Nathan was a freshman in my theatre class during sophomore year, but I never really noticed him until we were in the same theatre class again that one month I was at school for junior year. He was paired up with Layne for our first project and for some reason my heart just latched on to him.

"The first time we had a real conversation was the last time I had my period."

I'd seen her throw up, I'd seen nurses stick IVs in her, but I still jump when she says the words.

"Get over it," she breathes. "Anyway, that morning, the cramps really got to me so I ended up throwing up. My mom thought it had something to do with the cancer, but I had always gotten nauseous during my period. But anyway, I threw up that morning and went into school late. My parents were all for keeping me home that day, but I had a history test to take and I'd be damned if I missed that.

"So my dad took me in late and I signed the late arrival sheet and went to class. Mom kept texting me all day, wondering if I needed to come home, but for the first time in such a long time I felt fine, not nauseous any more now that I'd puked, not crampy because we had industrial-strength pain medication…I was happy.

"Anyway, so during theatre Layne and Nathan and Todd and I were all sitting out in the hall with a few other kids and Nathan looks right at me and asks, 'Hey, I saw on the late arrivals sheet you came in late today, are you alright?' It scared me, because I'd gotten my diagnosis about two months before that, but I still hadn't really told anyone and for some reason, I kind of wanted to tell him, I wanted to tell him that I wasn't okay, that I was really sick. But I didn't. I told him I was fine, that I had just thrown up this morning. He was like, 'Are you sure you're okay?' and I was just kind of like, 'Yeah, I'm alright.'

"But Layne could tell something was up. I whispered in her ear that I threw up because of cramps and Nathan heard me and was like, 'Are you _sure_ you're okay?' I laughed and just told him the real reason I threw up and he was like, 'Oh, I'm sorry.' And I said 'Why, because I threw up?' and he said 'No, because your uterus is falling out.'"

We both burst out laughing, my laugh loud, hers soft and wheezy.

"He gave me crap about that _all the time_. He'd bring it up at the most random moments. Like once we were all screwing around in the auditorium and Todd accidentally stepped on his balls and I was like, 'Nathan, are you hurt? Are you okay?' He was like, 'Ugh, it hurts, but at least it doesn't hurt as bad as your period.'

She sighs, a peaceful little smile carving its way across her sunken cheeks.

"And…and the last day I saw him…" her words start to slur a little, so I gently rub her leg under the covers, prompting her to finish. She perks up slightly and continues. "The last day I saw him, Layne and I were talking about him in class and I was like, 'Oh, Nathan, he's a cutie.' And Layne calls out, 'Hey Nathan! Massie thinks you're cute!' I could have killed her. But at the same time, I didn't really mind. Because it was one of my last days of school, you know? I just wanted…wanted to…"

I turn my head as subtly as I can and find her fast asleep on my shoulder, breathing shuddery breaths, eyelids fluttering.

There's a soft knock on the door, and Kendra pokes her head in.

"Let her sleep," Kendra whispers. "She was up all night."

I let her sleep.

* * *

She doesn't stop sleeping.

She sleeps and sleeps and sleeps.

Her feet and hands grow cold, and nothing her parents do can warm them up.

I wait. I wait because this is not the end.

Kendra calls.

"She's awake."


	9. i'm miles from where you are

RIP Granddad. Two years ago today. It's getting easier.

Thank you all so much for all of your reviews! They brighten my day every single time.

* * *

_i'm miles from where you are_

Her breathing is so labored. She can barely spit out the words as she rasps them to me.

"Did I tell you," she croaks. "About Todd Lyons?" The heavy dosages of pain medication are sending her eyes in every direction on some sort of crazy trip.

"Yes, Massie."

"What about…" her voice trails off for a minute and she stares out the window of her big, beautiful suite as though trying to remember where she is. "What about Kemp Hurley? Did I tell you about him?"

"Yes, Massie."

She spends a pregnant pause panting, her lungs racing. "Derrick Harrington?"

"Yes, Massie." My voice breaks on her name. This is too painful.

"Then I've told them all."

"You have?"

"I've told all my stories."

No.

"No."

"Yes."

I take her hand. Her tiny, bone-thin hand. I can see every blue vein underneath her creamy white skin.

"Chris."

"Yes?"

"I'm only sixteen."

"I know."

"I'm sixteen years old and I'll never get married."

I can't do this.

"I'll never have kids."

I grip the side of the bed. I don't want to hear this.

"I'll never grow up."

"Stop," I whisper, not loud enough for her to hear.

"Chris, I'm sixteen years old and I've never been kissed. I've never even had a real boyfriend."

No wonder she'd wanted me to write for her. She needed to keep track of the only romantic moments she'd ever had.

I knew what I had to do.

Taking her face in my hands and slowly guiding her mouth towards mine, I give Massie Block the first and last kiss of her life. We pull slightly apart after a minute, our foreheads touching, her breaths quick and light, mine deep and slow.

"Thank you," she murmurs, loud enough for only my ears to hear.

I crawl into the bed with her like I'd done so many times in the past two weeks and let her take my hand and lay her head on my shoulder. We stay that way until her mother tells me that it's time to leave.

* * *

4:36 AM. My phone is ringing. It's Massie's name on the caller ID.

"Christopher?"

It's Kendra.

"Yes?"

"Massie left us this morning."

I want to go, too.

"I…"

"I know." Kendra's voice is holding back a flood.

"Do you want me to come up?"

"No. I just want to know what Massie said you had for us."

The stories. I want to keep them. I want to take her laptop from the hospital and keep them to myself forever.

"On her laptop," I begin to explain. "There's a folder on her desktop. It's filled with stories. Stories about her and her love life. She wanted you and Mr. Block to know."

"Oh."

If we pause for too long, I know that Kendra might let the flood loose. And I can't let that happen.

"Did she say anything before she went?"

"About you?"

"Yes."

"She said…she said she remembered one last story. But she said you already knew it."

That was all I wanted to hear.

* * *

Nearly all of the boys she'd told me about came to her funeral. Even Josh from Texas. Even Nathan the freshman, the last boy she'd been interested in.

None of them would ever know how much they meant to her.

Only I got to carry that burden.

* * *

I still see her all the time. In my head. In my dreams.

We'll usually be walking along—she's in front of me, I'm following close behind. She won't look at me, but I can tell just by looking at the back of her that she's strong. Fit. Whole. Her skin glows, her hair shines, her ribs don't stick out in unhealthy ways.

And in the end, she'll whip around and tackle me in a bear hug I can feel even while asleep. My chest will tighten under her grip and I can feel the contours of her body under my arms. She'll look up at me and laugh, a laugh that lights up her whole face, my whole dream.

It's in that moment, right before I wake up, that I know she's okay.


End file.
